The Gambling Detective
by zombie4play
Summary: OCC. Crossover SherlockxLeft4dead. Nick the consulting detective meets a jealous Sherlock Holmes the consulting detective.


******Should I continue this story?  
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**The Gambling Detective**

******Chapter one:****what seems impossible  
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_"Please, Please. you've got to find my brother. He's all that I have left."_

_ "Well, a'course we'll find him for ya ma'am. Ya'll can count on us."_

"God damnit Ellis, why do you have to be so... Aghh-You all the time?" Nick sneered, glancing up from the document he had been reading. He was a little more than pissed off at Ellis for accepting the case that they previously had taken up. Normally, Nick wouldn't have taken a case with too many odds already stacked against him **before** he even had a chance to begin. He liked to get the simple and easy cases that pay well enough and require as little effort as possible. Like scouting for a lost cat or finding robbers who stole from the museum of national art. Those were the cases he favored, and normally Ellis would agree to follow him blindly on those sorts of outings and not complain when the gambling detective declined his services regarding the more mysterious cases, but apparently not this time.

But Nick had to admit, being a detective could get interesting. Especially when a dull case becomes so overwhelmingly complicated and detailed. Nick would never admit it but the only reason he didn't take up the big cases had nothing to do with his lack of experience in the detective business or the fact that he didn't work for the police force and couldn't get the work because in all honesty, those were lies. Nick had natural abilities of deduction and his criminal mind did help him a lot when it came to thinking like his enemies, and the police force? Well they all can go fuck themselves stupid because the detective never asked for their help. Mostly, it was always the other way around. The police always needed his help, more often than they want to promit. After all, he _was_ still a criminal in the eyes of 48 of the states in the U.S.

"We have to help her Nick. She needs help. Our help. Ain't we a detective agency after all?" Ellis Pushed himself up from the couch and to emphasis his point he pointed to the framed newspaper article that hung decoratively by the kitchen clock. It read "_New York's one and only consulting detective rewarded for his success for bringing the art thieves to justice!"_

The 'consulting' detective, as those bumbling idiots at New York Times described him, hated Ellis for framing that worthless informer of cut up trees and ink. He was no consulting detective, he was for from it. He was a criminal, and that's the side he belonged on, if it were not for the horrible epidemic with the Green Flu virus 4 years ago he would still be partaking in back-way alley heists and illegal drug dealing, oh, and he mustn't forget the gambling portion of the crimes he had committed over the years.

"She came to us Nick, cryin', because she had no one left ta turn to." Ellis Glanced down at the well dressed detective. How could he not have been phased when the poor girl started to cry? It was inhuman. " She was cryin' Nick, how can ya not even give a-"

"Quite easy Ellis." Nick put the file he was reading aside and placed his elbows on the table to allow his head to be cradled on his entwined hands. "Do you know how many pathetic people stroll into my office every day with a sad look in their eyes and tell me some sob story that is supposed to wrench my heart out? No, you don't. Because you're in the garage all day." He couldn't believe he had to explain this to the hick. After all, it was his business, not the southerner's. Nick was the one who started to whole detective idea and embraced it.

Nick, after all, was the one with the deductive talents.

"So? Ya'll was just lucky I was here so ya could take the case-"

"And who in their right mind would have wanted the case!?" Nick slammed his hands down onto their table. "With little pay and almost absolutely no information or leads to go on? Who would want to take on that impossible task of locating a poor idiotic sap?" Ok, yeah he was yelling, but the detective really didn't care right now. Ellis had saddled him with this, needless to say, impossible task. And for what? To stop the tears of an emotional teenaged girl who probably didn't want to face up to the facts that her brother was gone? It was all just one big headache to the gambling detective. A nuisance above all else.

Ellis just stood there, in the middle of their modern styled living room, staring at the detective through watery eyes. It wasn't his fault he was at the garage all the time. And it wasn't his fault that he had such a weak and caring heart when it came to people needing help. But it was his fault that his lover was in pain because of his stupid idiotic mistake. He shouldn't care so much, he was always getting his lover into trouble, and the good lord knows that he didn't want that.

In his silent loathing Ellis failed to see the detective remove himself from the table to stride over to where his lover stood in the living room. So he was a little surprised to find Nick standing there when he finished whipping his eyes on the back of his hand.

"I'm sorry Nick. I always seem ta get ya into more trouble when all I want ta do is help." Ellis dared to glance up at the ex-conman and looked in his eyes. All the anger was gone from his emerald eyes. All that showed in his eyes was passion and what seemed to be understanding.

Slowly Nick wrapped his arms around his boy-friend and placed a sweet and loving kiss on his forehead.

"It's ok El. I know how you get." Ellis leaned into the embrace and placed his head on Nick's shoulder.

"I'm sorry. I should learn ta keep ma mouth shut." Ellis felt Nick's embrace tighten.

"Don't even get me started about that El. Not tonight." Nick led them over to the couch where they both proceeded to sit. "All I want to do now is go over the information on the case and then go to bed." Letting go of Ellis Nick tried desperately not to blame the poor kid once again for getting them both into this mess. So instead his leaned back into the sofa and grabbed the paper that was placed alone and away from all the clutter on the table.

Looking over the paper quickly, Nick glanced at Ellis who was studying him thoughtfully.

"So what leads do we actually have?"

"Like ya said. None."

...

"Do we know what this boy looks like?"

"No."

...sigh...

"What's his name?"

"The sister didn't know herself. Apparently they were separated at a young age."

"Nationality?"

"No idea."

"Age?"

"Don't know."

"Other family members?"

"Can't say. They both were taken from their house and placed in an orphanage. Somethin' ta do with child abuse."

"Well then that's it. We can start there, get the records-"

"It burned down."

"DAMNIT ELLIS!"

He was already sick of this case. He was getting nowhere fast. And the 'no information' was already driving him crazy. Ellis waited patiently for the detective to to finish his outburst before he continued. "How the HELL are we going to find this kid then?"

"Well, Miss. Saya said she'll have ta come with us."

There was a long and deadly silence that grew between the two.

"Come with us?"

The atmosphere seemed to dense and fall on them like a heavy blanket.

Nick turned slightly toward the hick seated next to him and gave him one of his famous 'lie-to-me-and-I'll-rip-your-head-off-and-shit-down-your-neck' looks. A look Ellis bone chillingly feared.

"Y-yeah. You see, we have one lead. We can start off searching for the people who placed them into the Orphanage in the first place, I mean, someone had ta have called CPS, and we were thinkin' that the local hospital where they grew up might have some information too."

For the first time that day Nick actually smiled. "That's a great idea El. I think my detective skills are starting to rub off on you."

"Yeah, but..." Ellis hesitated underneath the detective's how he hated that stare. "The problem is..."

Nick's smile dropped as he saw Ellis fidgeting. "The problem?"

"Well, we will have ta travel a little ways..."

"Where Ellis?" The voice was cold, harsh and unforgiving.

"Well..."

"...Ellis..." It was a threat, one that could have cut through diamond.

"Well, in..."

"SPIT IT OUT ELLIS!"

"London."

...

"LONDON!?"

O_oO_o_O_o_O_o_O_o_O

"Goddamnit Sherlock, Who's head is this?" John waited for an answer but he knew all too well that he wasn't going to get one. So closing the fridge with the object in question he exited the kitchen and found the source of all his problems sitting in his chair toying on the internet.

"Sherlock, is that my laptop?"

"Yes John." He said flatly.

"Why are you using my laptop?" John placed his hands on his hips and stared at the back of the detective's head.

"My laptop is in my room. Simply too far away for the quick things that I- What?!" Sherlock's calm face turned shocked and stunned as he pulled the computer screen as close to his face as he could. "No! Impossible! No one could- Damnit!" Sherlock throw the computer across the room smashing it into the wall on the opposite side of the room.

"Sherlock!"

John was stunned. Why would Sherlock do that to his computer? And what was on the screen to piss him off so badly?

John concluded that no matter was on the computer screen made it acceptable for sherlock to do what he did. He was going to need a new computer and where was he going to get the money for that? Certainly not from a certain consulting sociopath, that was for damn sure. But whatever was on the screen really seemed to annoy his flatmate.

What ever it was got Sherlock so agitated that he jumped up off of the chair and rush to the door. He was half way through opening the door and throwing his jacket on when John finally found his voice.

"Where are you going?"

Sherlock seemed to ponder this. "Out."

"Where?"

"Scottland Yard." He seemed to have come to the conclusion that going to the Yard was the only way to get the information he needed, without going to his brother that is.

"Sherlock, what was on the computer screen to make you break my laptop?"

"Arn't you coming John?" It was a demand, not a question.

Unfortunately for him though, John was in no mood for following the detective like the loyal person he was. "The Computer Sherlock." His voice was demanding, that of a Military man.

Startled, Sherlock turned violently to face the well postured man.

"An Imposter that's what John. I was the one that created the job. So if reason should follow, _**I**_ should only be the one person with the title. And it appears on FRAUD from New York is trying to take that away from me!"

"You mean-"

"That's right. Someone stole my consulting title."

"Who?"

"Nick Niles, the consulting detective."

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**What did you think? Should I continue?**


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